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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28679436">The Hike of Betrayal.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinyjaskier/pseuds/tinyjaskier'>tinyjaskier</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern Witchers (The Witcher), Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Comfort/Angst, Dorks in Love, Emotionally Constipated Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Heavy Angst, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Idiots in Love, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, M/M, Memory Loss, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Protective Witchers (The Witcher), Recovered Memories, Sad and Happy, Soft Witchers (The Witcher), Temporary Amnesia, Witchers Have Feelings (The Witcher), soft</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 06:15:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,271</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28679436</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinyjaskier/pseuds/tinyjaskier</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>— A modern version of the events taking place during the ending of episode six. —</p><p>Prompt by @bardlingb on Twitter! And, I made it modern au. </p><p>‘When Geralt headed on a camping trip with the trio, he’d expected a relaxing break. All he got instead was regrets and heartache. </p><p>Jaskier? He got a generous handful of upset, along with a sprinkling of memory loss.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia &amp; Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>105</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Regrets.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Geralt barely slept a wink all night. The animals outside were loud, the wind made the trees rustle and Jaskier was snoring beside him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And, all day he’s had to listen to Jaskier bicker with Yennefer, Triss and Yennefer gossiping about certain things that he doesn’t exactly care for, and they’ve walked too far. Hes hungry, and tired, and—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dammit, Jaskier!” He </span>
  <em>
    <span>needs </span>
  </em>
  <span>to stop complaining. This trip was supposed to be a relaxing time away together. Full of friendship, and laughter and… not this. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt runs his hands down his face, glancing up at Jaskier a second later. He’s faced with a glare, intertwined with a look of sadness. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” His teeth are gritted as he stares across at Geralt. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just… you keep complaining. This was supposed to be a good trip! And… all the bickering and complaints!” He snaps again, tossing a stick forwards into the fire. It misses. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier’s already on his feet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where are you going?” A frown settles upon Geralt’s face. He stands too, guilt slowly beginning to settle in already. He’s just tired. And, God could Jaskier talk his ears off. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You clearly don’t want to be sat beside me anymore.” He calls over his shoulder, stopping for a moment and kicking a stray pebble. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt steps closer, but Jaskier steps back. “It’s dark. We drove together, Jaskier. You can’t just —“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I need some air.” He turns on his heel, already heading through the trees and back down the trail. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt feels a sudden hand touch his arm, holding him back. It’s a gentle touch. “Let him get a little air, Geralt.” He turns. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Triss, I—“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You shouted loud enough for me and Yenn to hear from our tent. What was that all about?” The pair head back towards the fire. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m tired.” He grumbles, the flames reflecting in his glassy eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The redhead rolls her eyes.  “You’re harsh, Geralt. Jaskier bickers to Yennefer as much as she bickers to him. It’s harmless, they don’t get along great. This trip has helped! They toasted marshmallows together last night.” She smiles. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt stares ahead at the horizon. There’s  a storm rolling in. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. It’s All His Fault.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It’s been almost two hours now, and the storm clouds are inching ever closer. Geralt glances over to Triss, who sends a frown back. “You don’t think he… left in my truck, do you?” Triss shuffles closer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure he didn’t. But, it’s going to rain and we should look for him. I’m sure he’s just sitting, writing something to get out his feelings.” She reassures him, getting to her feet and offering him a hand.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You coming?” She turns to Yennefer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A shake of the woman’s head. “I can think of many other things I’d rather be doing than getting caught up in a Jaskier and Geralt domestic.” She huffs a laugh. “Have fun. Be back for dinner.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt shakes his head, walking alongside Triss towards the trail that leads back down to the car park. It’s a four hour trek, and if Jaskier </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>planning on taking off, he wouldn’t be there yet. He’d also need the keys… and, Geralt is pretty sure he left them in his bag in their tent. “You think he strayed off the trail?” He speaks up after a few minutes, flinching just slightly as thunder rumbles above them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He may be an idiot sometimes, but I don’t think he’d wander into that much danger.” Triss answers. “He’s probably resting. He struggled with the climb up here.” She reminds him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They keep on walking. Minutes later the clouds release their anger upon the forest; rain begins to gently pour, and it isn't long until it begins to pour hard. It’s been almost an hour now, and the worry is starting to set in. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Watch your step.” Geralt looks over at Triss. “It’s slippery.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She gives a small nod, pushing some damp hair from her eyes. The trees above them are providing enough shelter so that the pair aren’t drenched, but it’s not the most comfortable of weathers to be hiking in. “Triss… what if…” Geralt starts, but trails off. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s fine, Geralt. He’s—“ Triss is cut off by a loud cursing. Geralt, a few steps ahead, has stepped around the corner already. “Triss!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her steps break into a jog, spying Geralt who is currently crouched upon the floor. His back had been obscuring the view, but as she steps closer and joins him she can see Jaskier lying motionless in the dirt. “Wait, don't move him.” The redhead warns, touching Geralt’s shoulder. “We don’t know his injuries.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She gently reaches to feel his pulse, studying the crimson stain just under his hairline. “He has a pulse.” Triss pulls out her phone. “We can’t move him, just incase his injuries are to his spine. Just to be safe.” She begins to reel out instructions as Geralt curses to himself, standing with his hands tightly clasped behind his head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everything seems to just be a blur of rain water and shouting after that. They’re around three hours from the bottom… this is… it’s all his fault. The storm and their altitude isn’t a good sign for the phone signal, but Triss’ backpack has an emergency phone in. Paramedics can’t make it up the trail in time, and so an air ambulance lands at their camp. The whirring of the helicopter blades are ingrained in Geralt’s ears even as he steps back against solid ground, swaying from left to right as they wheel Jaskier into the emergency room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Triss is on her way with Yennefer in the car. It’s been… Geralt has no idea how much time between her calling and him climbing into the helicopter with the two paramedics, and Jaskier on a stretcher. All he can do now is stand around in the white washed corridors, until somebody comes to inform him of what the situation is. Every single sound around him seems to ball up into one, and he barely makes it to the nearby chair. His clothes are wet through, rain in his hair, dirt pressed down into his nails. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This was all his fault. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Doctors and Nurses.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It seems like hours on end until a nurse finally locates him. He’s in the same chair, having barely moved a single muscle. In reality, it’s only been two hours. She stands above him, and he doesn’t even notice until she gently taps his shoulder. “Are you the man who accompanied Mr. Pankratz?” She asks, her voice soft. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He manages a nod, staring up at her with bleary eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s in ward 27. Visiting hours are almost over, but he's awake. He’s asking for you.” She gestures for Geralt to follow, and he manages to heave himself to his feet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The woman leads him down a few more corridors, and they eventually come to a set of double doors. She leads him inside, turning right and into another room. There are beds aligned against each side of the wall, and most of the curtains are closed. The nurse leads him to the bed closest to the window, and holds open the curtain for him. “I’ll fetch you when it gets to eight o’clock.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier is propped up by some pillows, a bandage around his head. He’s covered by the light blue blanket upon his bed, an IV connected to his left hand. Geralt just stares. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The boy in the bed catches his eye, and a grin appears upon his exhausted features. Geralt frowns. He’s… why is he smiling? “Jaskier, I… I’m…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Geralt!” The quiet voice interrupts him, putting down the small juice box he’d been sipping on. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sounds pleased to see him. This isn’t right. Geralt is still staring, and almost jumps out of his skin as someone else pulls the curtain back. He steps towards the wall, his face flushing. “Ah, it’s good to see you awake. We’ll be keeping you overnight to monitor your concussion. Just sit tight and relax. The nurses will be around to change your IV.” The man is clearly a doctor, and Geralt glances across at him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Doctor…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You must be a friend?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt nods. That guilt tugs at the insides of his chest again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The pair step out of the curtain. “Is he okay?” His voice is low, hearing Jaskier singing rather hoarsely from the other side. He’s clearly been drugged up with something or other. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He will be.” The Doctor gives a nod. “He’s suffered quite the concussion. It was lucky you and your friend went searching, or he could’ve been in here with numerous issues. He’s dehydrated and in shock, and with a few other bumps and bruises. But, the scan is clear and there’s no sign of internal bleeding. He needs monitoring.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And, be gentle with him, Mr…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Geralt.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He's showing signs of memory loss. It can happen after an accident like that— he hit his head pretty hard. But, it should come back in a few days, or perhaps weeks.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt turns even paler, any signs of the previous flush now long gone. “He won’t… remember anything about today?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s doubtful. He doesn’t remember how he hurt his head. The last thing he remembers is going home from his coffee shop shift.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A grimace. “That was a week ago. We’ve been camping for five days already.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“His memory should return. We’ll keep an eye on him for now.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt manages to mutter a thanks, and watches as the Doctor walks away. “Geraaaalt?” A weakened call sounds from behind the curtain. He inhales sharply. He won’t tell Jaskier anything about… what happened. Not yet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” He pushes the curtain back, moving to stand beside Jaskier’s bed. He wants nothing more than to pull him into a hug, yet things are so sensitive and everything is still whirling within his mind like a tornado. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They gave me some </span>
  <em>
    <span>good </span>
  </em>
  <span>things, Geralt. I was bleeding and… whoosh! It all must’ve gone away!” He waves his free hand around in some sort of an explosion impression. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A slight smile manages to creep its way onto Geralt’s lips. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They told me we flew here, Geralt. I’ve never been in a helicopter before.” He continues to ramble, and Geralt takes a seat beside the bed. Jaskier reaches for his hand and he bites down on the inside of his cheek. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have to go soon, Jaskier. Visiting hours.” His voice is low, and he's avoiding those blue eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A pout settles upon the pale face. “But… you’ll come back? I don’t like it here. Things beep and the nurses prod me with needles.” Jaskier whines. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt sighs. “I’ll be back before you wake up, songbird.” He has to be nice to him. He can’t just explain that they fell out. He’s the entire reason Jaskier is in here, and he feels terrible about it. But, he can’t spring that upon Jaskier when he’s already in pain. He… is it selfish not to tell him? Fuck. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He opens his mouth to say something, but upon glancing up realises that Jaskier’s eyes are closed. The nurses are monitoring him, so Geralt assumes that it’s safe for him to fall asleep. He sighs again, getting to his feet. He should go… Triss and Yennefer should be here by now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Heading back out into the corridor, Geralt pulls his phone from his pocket. It’s a little damp from all of the rainwater, but it still works. He’ll put it in rice when he’s home— his phone is the least of his worries right now. He scans over a few texts from Triss, the most recent one telling him they’ve almost made it to the car and that the storm has eased. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s almost an hour’s drive to the hospital, and so he types out a text to let them know that Jaskier is okay and that Geralt will be picking up his truck tomorrow morning. The hike itself isn’t far from the city in which they live in— just over an hour. And, the hospital is much closer to home than the hike itself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt catches a taxi ride home, takes a hot shower and collapses into bed. Jaskier’s room is opposite, and it’s more than strange not to hear the strumming of guitar strings. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sighs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shit.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. All That Matters.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Geralt knew that without at least two alarms set, he’d sleep through right into the afternoon. Thankfully, with the help of his alarm clock and his phone, he’s awoken at eight am. The visiting hours start at nine, and he needs time to pick up his truck before heading to the hospital. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Triss will be picking him up in half an hour to drive him there, and they should arrive back at the hospital around half past ten. He’s hoping that Jaskier will still be asleep, after what he told him yesterday. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After a quick shower and change of clothes, his doorbell is already sounding. He isn’t in the mood to eat anything anyway, and heads to answer. “You look like shit,” Triss greets him, eyebrows raised. Somehow she looks… alright. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks. Can we go?” He steps onto the front step, and locks the door. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The pair make it into the car. “There’s two granola bars in the dash. I assume you haven’t eaten anything since yesterday afternoon?” Triss speaks, voice stern as she starts up the engine. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt just grumbles, reluctantly reaching to pick one out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The first half of their journey is painfully silent. Geralt had asked to turn the radio off— it wasn’t doing any favours for his headache. Although, the snack bars and water that Triss had brought him seem to be helping. He’s not going to admit that though. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Look it’s… it isn’t your fault.” She finally shatters the quiet, her voice soft. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Leave it, Triss. It’s fine.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She sighs quietly. “You like him, Geralt. It’s not fine.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not like that. It’s… complicated. You know it is. My family wouldn’t— we don’t need to have this conversation. Not again.” He turns to face the window and stares out of it, ignoring the painful sting that’s building up behind his eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“All that matters is that he’s fine and so are you. We’ll be there soon, and you can both talk it out and—“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He has fucking amnesia, Triss.” Geralt doesn’t shout, it’s more of a subdued snap that doesn’t quite hold its bite. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” She goes quiet. “Shit.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p> ~</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Geralt and Triss arrive at the hospital, it’s close to eleven am. She tells him to go on ahead whilst she grabs a coffee, and so after giving her the directions he heads off. He introduces himself at the reception desk, and the woman allows him to pass with a smile. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier’s curtains are open this time, and there’s a half eaten bowl of cereal upon the table above his bed, as well as a water jug and some cardboard bowls. Jaskier himself has his eyes closed again, but they open when he hears footsteps. “Geralt.” His voice is quiet, the tiniest of smiles upon his lips. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His injuries are more evident now— perhaps it’s because it’s been long enough for the bruising to show, or maybe it’s the fact that Geralt is no longer in a complete daze anymore. He notices that Jaskier is wearing pyjamas that aren’t his now, instead of a hospital gown. He doesn’t look well, but it could be much worse. That’s what Geralt is trying to tell himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How are you?” He asks, realising that he hasn’t actually spoken yet. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Stupid question. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A small laugh leaves Jaskier’s chapped lips. Geralt sits down in the chair he’d occupied last night.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Everything hurts, the nurses are old today and their food tastes funny.” He grumbles, and this time it’s Geralt’s turn to laugh. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier groans quietly, turning to look at Geralt. “Why do you look so terrible? I don’t recall you also injuring yourself last night.” He frowns, but the expression clearly causes him pain as he soon stops. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just tired.” He exhales. “Didn’t sleep much.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Because of me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, I—“ before Geralt can finish, Triss is peering in. Jaskier is distracted… impeccable timing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She wanders in at the sight of Jaskier’s smile, and places a brown paper bag upon the table. “Hospital food is the worst. But, breakfast </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>one of the best meals. You not hungry?” She eyes his half eaten breakfast, moving closer to him to inspect his injuries. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re off duty, nurse Merigold.” Jaskier points out, peering into the bag. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘OoH’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Triss chuckles. “I know. But, always on duty when a friend is involved. How’re you feeling?” Her expression is wonderfully sympathetic, and Geralt can see why she’s so good at her profession. He probably looks like a cross between in pain and slightly constipated when he’s trying to portray sympathy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier picks at the blueberry muffin that was inside the bag. “Alright. More in pain than yesterday.” He admits, placing some of the food into his mouth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s understandable. They letting you out anytime soon?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The nurse said I had a good night. She says I need to eat and drink some more, and then they’ll take out the IV. Then, if I continue to be fine I might be able to leave this evening.” He reels off what the nurse told him, taking his time and looking deep in thought at certain points to remember. It wasn’t that long ago, but the Doctor explained to him that’ll happen. Each nurse keeps reminding him too. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s blocking the memory loss talks out though, purposefully not mentioning it to Triss. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s great, Jaskier. I have some of your things in here— clothes, your phone, a few books.” She holds up one of her own rucksacks, since their things they’d carried down from camp had gotten wet in the rain. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call. I’m not back at work until tomorrow night.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His face lights up. “Geralt isn’t back at work yet either. He’ll have to take care of me.” Jaskier takes another bite of his new breakfast. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt snaps out of whatever trance he’d been in, and shows a slight nod. Triss frowns at him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure. Yeah… I mean… yeah I will.” He clears his throat. “I have work on Monday, but I can cancel. I have holiday left.” He’s not quite sure why he said that out loud, but now it’s a promise. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He needs to think before he speaks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier is smiling though, and that’s all that matters. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Pizza and Ice Cream.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Geralt is standing (not so) patiently outside of the curtain, whilst Jaskier talks to the nurse. It’s six thirty in the evening, and he’s been discharged to go home. The pair are just discussing the terms of him being allowed to leave, and it’s obviously taking a little longer due to the natures of his injury. </p><p> </p><p>When the nurse exits from behind the blue, and gives him a small smile before heading off. Geralt peers in, moving to pick up his bag. “Can you walk alright?”</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t get concussions of the feet, Geralt.” Jaskier teases, a mischievous smile written across his face. </p><p> </p><p>“Funny.”</p><p> </p><p>“I can walk. It hurts a little bit, but they said there's no sprains or breaks.” </p><p> </p><p>“Lean on me.” Geralt offers, moving closer to Jaskier. </p><p> </p><p>He’s back to wearing his own clothes now, thanks to Triss. He must’ve showered when Geralt had gone home for a little while earlier — Jaskier ordered him to go and take a nap, or he said he’d get him admitted — because his hair is much cleaner and fluffier, and the rest of the leftover blood has disappeared from his face. </p><p> </p><p>Geralt helps him out to the truck, placing his bag in the back seat. Their drives usually consist of loud music and a lot of singing — on Jaskier’s behalf — but, today it’s quiet. He drives as slowly as possible, not wanting to go over any bumps and hurt Jaskier’s head. They don’t talk much on the ride home, but the silence isn’t too painful. Jaskier looks tired, and Geralt doesn’t bother him. </p><p> </p><p>Once they’re inside, Jaskier makes his way over to the sofa and immediately snuggles in one of the blankets draped over the back. Geralt closes the door, unzipping the bag on loan from Triss. “All of your things are in here? That the doctor and nurse gave you?”</p><p> </p><p>“Mhm. They said… to come back if things got worse. If I get sick frequently, to come back too. There’s a list of emergency symptoms in the leaflet.” He lists, closing his eyes for a moment. “Uh, there’s painkillers too.” </p><p> </p><p>Geralt moves to stand in front of him, putting the bag down upon the coffee table. “You okay?” He glances at him, watching as Jaskier keeps his eyes closed. </p><p> </p><p>“Just remembering.” He mutters. “They said I might have trouble with short term things for a while.”</p><p> </p><p>Geralt feels that familiar sense of guilt start to crawl back in. He ignores it. </p><p> </p><p>“That’s okay.” He says softly, sitting down beside him. “I’ll help you remember… or, I could use this opportunity to eat your favourite cereal and pretend it was you all along.” That earns a laugh. </p><p> </p><p>Jaskier sighs. “Can we watch a film, or something? If… if you have things to prepare for work, it’s okay.” He’s staring at his grazed knuckles as he speaks. </p><p> </p><p>“We can watch any film you want. I’ll even accept Mama Mia.” He watches as a grin creeps onto Jaskier’s face. </p><p> </p><p>“And… can we have pizza?”</p><p> </p><p>“We can.”</p><p> </p><p>“And ice cream?”</p><p> </p><p>“U-huh.”</p><p> </p><p>“And, you’ll sing with me before we go to sleep?”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t push it.”</p><p> </p><p>~</p><p> </p><p>Geralt, still ignoring his guilt, is trying to focus on how glad he is that Jaskier is having a nice evening. They ate pizza, ice cream and watched Mama Mia. He’s now fast asleep upon Geralt’s shoulder, so the other doesn’t plan on moving anytime soon. It’s still early— only eight pm. He’ll browse the channels on the television until Jaskier wakes up, and if he doesn’t wake up anytime soon then he’ll simply carry him to bed. </p><p> </p><p>As if reading his mind though, Jaskier stirs. He looks down at him, waiting for him to say something. “Ow,” the brunette mutters at first. “Your shoulder isn’t as comfortable as I remember.” He grumbles. </p><p> </p><p>“You want to head to bed early?” Geralt suggests, still studying Jaskier’s facial expression. </p><p> </p><p>A nod is his reply, and he’s already stumbling towards the bedroom to get his pyjamas on. Geralt does the same, shrugging on one of his hoodies to keep him warm. Summer is coming to an abrupt end, is it does in England, and the nights are bringing cool air instead of hot. </p><p> </p><p>He makes his way into Jaskier’s bedroom, giving a small knock on the door before entering. The room is so much more decorated than Geralt’s all black everything. There’s a large bi flag pinned above his bed, shelves adorned with various musical and poetry books, funkos from his favourite shows and posters from various bands filling up the rest of the wall space. His window seat is home to a few plants, and a brightly colour cushion. Geralt knows that he sits there to compose sometimes. </p><p> </p><p>“Geralt?” Jaskier’s coming out of the bathroom, and his voice snaps him out of his daze. </p><p> </p><p>“I thought you might like some company.” He mutters. </p><p> </p><p>The pair both have their own respective double beds, yet sometimes they find themselves sharing. But… it’s complicated. The only time they’d talked about how ‘complicated’ it is, was one drunken night during the Christmas holidays. Jaskier doesn’t have family to go home to and Geralt never wants to go home to his, and so makes up some sort of excuse when he can. Most of them are always overseas anyway. </p><p> </p><p>They’d talked about it, and Jaskier had said he could deal with ‘complicated.’ That he wasn’t scared of Geralt’s family. Even though the last time they knew he’d kissed a boy — in high school — the kid never talked to him again after Geralt’s elder brother dealt with things. But… it wasn’t <em> just </em>the fact that he doesn’t want Jaskier involved with them. They have such a wonderful house, in a wonderful city near such beautiful hiking destinations. How else would they have afforded it without Geralt’s mother insisting?</p><p> </p><p>The pair have been friends for a long time now— Geralt’s family knows that much. They attended the same University a few miles away. Stayed together in student housing. Geralt followed Jaskier to the gig he had at a nearby City that was surrounded by countryside, old architecture and such a homely feel. They’d jokingly been looking at the houses along the way, considered putting an offer in. The rest is history. </p><p> </p><p>“Yes please.” Jaskier climbs into bed, his voice once again pulling Geralt from his thoughts. He can’t stop thinking about it all. </p><p> </p><p>Geralt follows in his footsteps, climbing into bed beside him. “You need anything?” He asks softly. </p><p> </p><p>Is he… taking advantage of Jaskier’s memory loss? It’s just— he needs someone to take care of him. That’s all. </p><p> </p><p>“No thanks.” </p><p> </p><p>Geralt wraps his arms around Jaskier, and the other immediately curls up close. It’s barely even five minutes before he can hear the soft snoring. It’s soothing tonight, despite it keeping him awake whilst camping. He should’ve just gotten over it. It wasn’t Jaskier’s fault. None of this was. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Can’t Remember.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When morning comes, Geralt already notices how well he’d slept. Much better than the night he’d left from the hospital. Jaskier is still fast asleep in his arms, and so after ensuring that he’s alright, Geralt carefully sneaks out towards the kitchen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He starts mixing pancake batter together, humming to himself. Trying to distract his mind away from constantly telling himself that he’s taking advantage of Jaskier. He’s not. He’ll tell him the truth about the mountainside when he’s recovered better. Or… he’ll remember by himself. A glance upwards at the clock reveals that it’s already almost eleven.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The doorbell ringing makes Geralt jump a little, so concentrated on making breakfast. He frowns, hurrying towards the door to see who might be dropping in. Upon opening the door, he’s greeted with quite a large gift basket on the step, and somebody who looks suspiciously like Yennefer hurrying back towards her car. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yenn.” He shuts the door behind him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She stops, groans, and turns around. “You weren’t supposed to see me.” She mutters, ames fold okd across her chest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He smiles. “For Jaskier?” Geralt gestures back to the basket. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You care.” Geralt teases. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No… but, I don’t want him to be hurt. I’m not a monster, Geralt.” Yennefer rolls her eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You want to know if he’s okay?” His head tilts to the side a little. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Triss already filled me in. I’m glad he’s okay. But do </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span>, under any circumstances, tell him that it’s from me.” She warns, pointing a finger at him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt holds up his hands on mock surrender. “Cross my heart.” He replies, completing the promise by doing the real life action with his finger.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good. I’ll see you later then.” Yennefer nods towards him, and unlocks her car. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“See you, Yenn.” Geralt chuckles, turning to make his way back up the steps and bring the basket inside. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He places it onto the table in the living room, returning back to his pancakes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who was at the door?” A sleepy voice comes from somewhere behind him, and Geralt leans backwards to glance into the open plan living room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t know.” He shrugs. “Must’ve been whoever left that on the front step.” He uses a spatula to point at the basket. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier frowns, moving to take a look. He pulls off the big, purple ribbon and looks inside. “Ooh!” He’s already inspecting a cupcake. Whoever brought it, put in a lot of thought. There’s  a lot of his favourite treats in here, as well as a selection of home remedies for headaches. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t eat anything. You’ll spoil your breakfast.” Geralt warns, eyeing Jaskier in his peripherals as he cooks the pancakes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier puts the cupcake down, and gently moves the basket to the coffee table. He moves into the kitchen, staring around with a confused expression. “Lost something?” Geralt asks, flipping each pancake. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I… um… meds?” He blinks a few times, then stares at the mismatched socks on his feet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Far left cupboard, in a little box by the cereals.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah. I put them there.” Jaskier mumbles, reaching for them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt plates their pancakes with a frown. “It’s okay.” He says, not really thinking. “If you forget.” He keeps his voice soft, his eyes portray worry.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier nods, pushing out one of the painkillers and fetching a glass to fill with water. “I know.” He says quietly, before taking the medication. “Just feels weird.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt nods, moving to bring the pancakes to the table. Jaskier takes a seat, looking up at him with tired eyes. “What would you like to drink?” Geralt questions, stretching as he stands by Jaskier. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to wait on me hand and foot, you know.” The other boy looks sheepish as he picks up his cutlery, and reaches for the syrup. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Geralt laughs. “It’s just breakfast, Jask. What would you like to drink?” He repeats. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier smiles. “Hm… coffee? Please?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You read my mind.” The other mutters, heading into the kitchen to brew some. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He soon returns with a latte for Jaskier and a black coffee for himself, placing both mugs down on the table. He picks up his own knife and fork, then glances as Jaskier’s plate. “Still no appetite?” Geralt asks, taking a generous bite of his own food. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier shrugs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Damn, I thought you would’ve forgotten how bad my cooking is.” Geralt jests, attempting to lighten the mood despite his concern. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier does laugh a little bit, picking up his coffee. “It’s fine. I have to eat with the pills anyway. They taste good— the pancakes I mean.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt chuckles. “But…?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After taking a sip of his coffee, Jaskier picks up his fork again and yawns. “But, I just feel kind of nauseous. And, dizzy. They said it’s normal. But, it feels…” he trails off. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Weird?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier nods. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just eat as much as you can manage.” Geralt reassures, already almost finished with his own plateful. “What do you want to do today?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier shrugs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt frowns briefly. He’s usually talking Geralt’s ear off about some new song of his when they share breakfast together. “You can just sleep if you like. I know hospitals are hard to sleep in.” Being a personal trainer, he’s spent his own fair share of time in A&amp;E. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe… what’re you going to do today?” He cuts up some more of the pancake, poking it with his fork before eventually eating it.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m staying here with you.” Geralt reminds him. “I’ll call work on Monday and take the rest of my holiday… did you message your manager?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier thinks for a moment. “My phone is in the bedroom.” He pushes his plate away a few inches. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be back in a little bit. Thank you for breakfast.” Getting to his feet, Jaskier heads towards his bedroom. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt sighs quietly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>~</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier returns to the living room just over an hour later— Geralt has already listened at his bedroom door a few times to ensure that he’s alright. It turns out he messaged his manager whilst in the hospital yesterday, and she’s being rather sympathetic and helpful towards him needing time off work. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The pair are sat on the sofa now, idly staring at whatever random crime drama has started playing on the TV, neither of them really paying attention. They’re both tired. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t you go back to bed? I can make lunch for us when you wake up.” Geralt suggests, glancing over at Jaskier who’s scrolling on his phone with half open eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He glances up, and then stretches. “Ow.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt stands, offering him a hand to help him up. Grasping it, Jaskier gets up, momentarily standing close. “I’ll be back in a little bit.” He says softly, before wandering back off to his bedroom. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Switching off the television so that the house goes back to quiet, Geralt sets himself busy in the kitchen. He’ll make some sandwiches and they can watch another movie or something. Jaskier needs his mind distracted— the forgetfulness is getting to him, it isn’t exactly hard to tell. He’s being much too quiet and Geralt doesn’t like it. Which only makes him feel </span>
  <em>
    <span>more</span>
  </em>
  <span> guilty for what happened on their trip. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After almost an hour passes, Geralt picks up a small sound coming from down the corridor. At first he just assumes that it’s Jaskier’s snoring, but it doesn’t quite match up. He frowns, putting his book upside down onto the coffee table and standing. He moves into the small corridor, standing outside Jaskier’s closed door. It sounds like crying. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jask?” His voice is full of concern, and his knuckles gently meet the wood of the door to knock. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No answer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m coming in, okay?” He keeps his voice soft, and opens the door.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier is sitting on the bed, staring at his phone with tears running down his face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt is by his side in seconds, asking what happened before catching a glimpse at his phone screen. His stomach suddenly lurches slightly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I— I thought that… I found these on my phone, and— and on TV shows they… it always works. T-they show the patient the photos and then they remember.” He chokes on a sob. “But, I— I don’t remember, Geralt.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt gently takes the phone from Jaskier’s trembling hands, and places it face down upon the bed. He envelopes him in a hug, being careful not to hurt him. “Hey, it’s only been a couple days. Of course you won’t remember yet.” He says softly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier just sobs into his shirt. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let’s focus on remembering a little bit later. Now? Now you can focus on eating those cupcakes.” He rocks him from side to side for a while, listening as the sobs slowly subside. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually, Jaskier leans back. He rubs his eyes, looking anywhere but at Geralt for a few minutes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt waits. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can we watch a film?” He says quietly, blinking away the last of his stray tears. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We can.” Geralt leans over to his nightstand, and hands him the tissue box. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier toys with it for a moment, and then wipes his face. “Disney?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If we must.” He’s only teasing, and Jaskier will notice his smile when he eventually looks up again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier’s eyes of bright blue gaze up at Geralt, looking dull and sad. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ready?” Geralt holds out his hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After a small nod, the other takes it. They head into the living room, and Geralt fetches a blanket for Jaskier before heading back into the kitchen to retrieve the food. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They get through half of the film, before Jaskier is asleep upon Geralt’s shoulder. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Still Not Better.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Sundays are usually quite dull. Geralt usually gets up extremely early and heads out on a run, but he doesn’t want to leave Jaskier. They slept separately last night— Jaskier needing some alone time. Geralt didn’t sleep as well. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yet, he’s still awake early and scrolling aimlessly on his phone as he prepares his coffee. After he’s finished with his breakfast and is washing up the cereal bowl — a rare occurrence, as Jaskier would say — he hears the gentle music coming from a guitar. A smile crosses his features. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt finishes with the dishes, and makes his way to Jaskier’s room. The door is ajar, and he quietly calls out after a minute or two of just listening. “Morning,” he greets, stepping inside. “It’s good to hear you playing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier looks up. He looks better than yesterday. “Couldn’t sleep.” He puts down the guitar, and wriggles his fingers. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They hurt?” Geralt moves closer, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Only a little. Hey! You know I’m going to get a really cool scar now. I’m going to show it off to Eskel and Lambert when you’re back at work.” He’s grinning, and Geralt laughs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure they’ll love it. What’s your cover story?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I beat up some real bad guys.” Jaskier raises his fists. “And, I won!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt laughs even harder. “You think they’ll believe you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No… they’ll probably say I walked into a door.” He muses, giggling slightly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eskel and Lambert work at the same gym as Geralt, and on the odd occasion Jaskier will drop by just before closing to help them close up. They’re all personal trainers there, and Lambert’s uncle owns the place so they usually end up closing. Jaskier doesn’t do much when he drops by— it mostly consists of him climbing on random pieces of equipment and Lambert getting annoyed that he’s doing it wrong. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You look better today. How’d you feel?” Geralt lies down upon the mattress, stretching his arms above his head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay. A little dizzy, but I slept good.” Jaskier pokes Geralt’s side, and he flinches. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Opening one eye, Geralt looks up at Jaskier. “What did you want to do today? We could drop by Yennefer’s?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier scrunches up his nose. “I don’t think she’s happy with me… I cut the camping trip short, right?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt regrets bringing it up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’s not mad at you, Jaskier. None of us are.” Both of his eyes are open now. “Triss is working, so we can’t drop by her place…” he trails off.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I do need to go food shopping though.” He’s sitting up now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can help?” Jaskier offers, already making his way to the bathroom and regretting standing up so quickly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt is fast to hop up and join him, steadying him with both hands on his shoulders. Jaskier leans back, and Geralt holds him. “You can help.” He answers. “Not the most exciting trip out, but it’s something.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier laughs. “Do I get to buy sweets?” He moves out of the hold, the wave of dizziness having passed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That depends on how much you help.” Geralt jests, making his way to the door so that he can shower too. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>~</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After Jaskier has had breakfast, Geralt and Jaskier head to the supermarket. They step inside, and immediately Jaskier starts to squint, shielding his eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt glances down at him. “You good?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s… bright.” He mutters, using another hand to steady himself against the trolley. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Here.” Geralt reaches for his sunglasses that were resting on his half unbuttoned shirt, and hands them to Jaskier. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Putting them on provides some relief, and he mutters a quiet ‘thanks’ in return. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You need to leave at any time, just say the word.” Geralt tells him seriously, before taking hold of the trolley and moving forwards. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They manage the entire trip without too many issues. Jaskier attempts to sneak in various bags of sweets and stupidly priced cereals. Geralt pretends he doesn’t notice for a few of the things. Jaskier leans against the trolley whilst Geralt packs the bags, and then they head out into the car park. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once they’re back in the car, Jaskier leans his head back against the seat. “We’ll be home soon.” Geralt reassures him, starting up the engine. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s only a fifteen minute drive home, but Geralt knows that Jaskier is feeling worse as each minute passes. Once they’re back again, he makes haste to exist the vehicle and move to open the other door. “Can you walk?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier groans in response. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Helping him out of the car, Geralt manoeuvres himself to close the door. “I guess I’ll have to carry you then. Ready?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Geralt, no—“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He picks him up bridal style with little effort, and carries him all the way to the front door. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How're you going to unlock it with me in your arms?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah… well, I didn’t think that far ahead.” Geralt grumbles. “I’ll uh…  put you down, okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After carefully letting Jaskier down, Geralt turns around at a sound that comes from behind him. Their neighbour — an elderly woman — is standing, staring at him. “Afternoon, Mrs. Bridges!” Geralt ignores Jaskier’s quiet giggles coming from behind him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That woman dotes on Jaskier all the time, he bakes her cakes and she always invites him in for tea. But, she always gives Geralt funny looks. Pretty unfair, if you ask him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After unlocking the door, Geralt helps Jaskier inside and towards the sofa, before heading back to close it again. Then, he fetches his painkillers and a glass of water. “You didn’t take any this morning?” He questions, having looked at the sheet of paper where Jaskier jots down each time he takes one. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I thought I would be alright.” He mumbles in response, taking the glass and pill packet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt takes them back once he’s done with each item, and watches as Jaskier lies down. Seeing him like this only causes his mind to dwell on everything related to the trip again, and he feels… so guilty. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You need anything else?” He asks softly, ignoring his mindset for now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uhhh… definitely the strawberry laces we bought.” Jaskier’s voice is weak, but he’s still Jaskier. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt laughs. “I’ll bring them over once I’ve put all of the shopping away. You just rest.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But—“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No buts, Jask.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>~</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier slept the rest of the afternoon away, and so Geralt headed to his bedroom to get a little exercise done in order to clear his head. He started cooking dinner after that, a still sleeping Jaskie lying comfortably on the sofa. It isn’t until almost six that he finally wakes up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Around that same time Geralt receives a text from Triss, asking if she can stop by after her shift ends. “Jask?” Geralt calls out softly, hearing his groaning from the kitchen. He heads into the living room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jaskier?” He calls again, but not too loudly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hmm?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You okay?” He asks that question first. “Triss wants to stop by, shall I say yes?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mhm.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt types a quick reply, and places his phone on the table. There’s a pasta bake cooking in the oven that won’t be ready for another forty minutes, and there should be enough for Triss should she choose to stay for dinner in a little while. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He moves to sit on the arm of the sofa, Jaskier’s body still stretched out on the cushions. “It’s been four hours if you need more meds.” Geralt tells him, poking one of his feet and watching Jaskier curl up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sitting up slowly, Jaskier nods. Geralt passes him the water and pills that are still sat on the coffee table, and waits for him to take them. He chuckles softly at the state of Jaskier’s bed head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After putting them back for him again, Geralt sits down beside him. “You look so miserable, Jask.” He says softly. “I hate it when you’re miserable. It’s… like an oxymoron or something.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright, Mr. English teacher.” Jaskier lets out a light chuckle, before leaning against Geralt’s arm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wraps his arm around him, pulling him a little closer. “Dinner will be ready soon.” Geralt tells him, seconds before his phone vibrates against the table behind him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That’s most likely Triss letting him know that she’s on her way. Her shift usually ends at six, but there’s always something or other that holds her up. The hospital is only a twenty minute drive in medium traffic, so it won’t take her long to get here. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt stays with Jaskier until there’s a knock at the door. A look of confusion crosses Jaskier’s still slightly dazed features, as Geralt gets up to answer it. “It’s Triss.” He states, noticing the look upon the other’s face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Triss?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt swallows. “She’s coming over…” he stops himself from asking if Jaskier remembers, because clearly he doesn’t. “Uh, is that okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier just nods. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Coming!” Geralt calls, chuckling slightly as he spots the redhead waving through the front window. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He opens the front door to greet her with a smile. “Hey.” Geralt leans against the open door. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi!” She beams at him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stepping aside to let her in, Triss wraps him in a hug before he can even close the door. “You look a lot better.” She observes out loud, before turning to search for Jaskier. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jask!” She skips over to the sofa, and takes a seat. “How’re you feeling?” She can sense his feelings of frustration already, and she’s moving closer to give him a cuddle. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He very almost starts crying again… but, manages to stop himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt moves to awkwardly stare at them. “Do you want to stay for dinner, Triss?” He asks eventually, not sure whether or not he should interrupt their moment. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She looks up at him, arms still holding Jaskier. “I don’t want to intrude.” She smiles. “It smells good though… you having to take over as resident chef?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You can stay.” Jaskier squeaks quietly, not moving from her embrace. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt gives a nod. “I’ll go and get it ready. You two… you take your time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sets out plates and cutlery upon the table, fills up a water jug and places three glasses down too. While he gets everything ready, Geralt can hear Triss reassuring Jaskier about his condition and answering some of his questions. He’s glad she has the qualifications to do so, because Geralt would have to use Google and then it would most likely tell Jaskier that he’s dying. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s ready!” He calls, placing the china dish in the centre of the table, before using a spatula to plate the food. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Triss arrives to take a seat first, letting Geralt know that Jaskier will be just a minute. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is he okay?” Geralt asks, keeping his voice down. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She gives a sympathetic smile before answering. “He will be. He’s just scared… but, everything that he’s experiencing is perfectly normal for an injury like that. I think my words helped.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The pair sit and continue to chat whilst waiting for their third member, turning as he comes back into the living room. He takes a seat in the middle of the other two, reaching to fill his glass. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do we have to do the awkward silence thing now that I’m here?” Jaskier says suddenly, a slight smirk toying with the corners of his mouth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Triss laughs. “You’re right. There is </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing </span>
  </em>
  <span>worse than the sympathetic glances and quiet chatter that dies down when the person in question walks into the room. Sorry.” She send a smile towards him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, uh, sorry.” Geralt repeats, his mouthful of pasta already. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Triss kicks him slightly under the table, and Jaskier giggles. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After that, the awkwardness fizzles out like an old candle. They all talk about various different things whilst they eat, and laugh together as if everything was normal. Jaskier once again, doesn’t finish everything on his plate, but he eats most of it. Triss and Jaskier both thank Geralt for cooking, and she helps him to clear the dishes away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The washing up can be saved for later, and each of them move to sit on the sofa. Jaskier lets everyone have one of his cupcakes, and they watch TV for a couple of hours until Triss announces her leave. The pair both thank her for coming, and Geralt shows her out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once she’s gone, Geralt moves into the kitchen to do the dishes. He’s surprised when Jaskier joins him. “You don’t need to help, it’s only a few things.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think I’m going to head to bed.” Jaskier tells him, moving closer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can… wash these up later.” Geralt puts the next dish onto the drying rack, before drying his hands on a tea towel. “C’mon.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He joins Jaskier in his bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed whilst he brushes his teeth in the bathroom. He comes out wearing his pyjamas, and Geralt grimaces slightly as he catches sight of one of the bruises on his forearm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Climbing under the covers, Jaskier looks over at Geralt. “Did you call the gym?” He asks quietly, the covers pulled up to his nose. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I did. I have two weeks off now. Text Eskel and Lambert too, they sent their well wishes this evening. Lambert asked if you’d walked into a door.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier laughs, but groans a little afterwards. “What did you tell him?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That you fought off a bear.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Geralt!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m just kidding.” He chuckles. “I told him that’s a story you have to tell him yourself.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier smiles. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to tell him that I was in a fight, like a hero.” He mumbles, lying down with his eyes closed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You do that, Jask.” Geralt’s voice is soft. “You do that.”</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Picnics and Passing Out.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Tuesday rolls around quickly, and Geralt wakes early again. His body clock likes to taunt him when he has time off. He heads out on a small run this time, but doesn’t go his usual circuit. He’s home again before Jaskier even wakes up, showered and eating toast on the sofa a little while later. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier comes wandering in a little while later, not even noticing Geralt sat watching television. “Morning!” He calls, hearing something clatter followed by a curse. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jumping up, he hurries to see what happened. Thankfully, it’s only a spoon that Jaskier dropped. “Sorry,” Geralt leans down to pick it up for him. “I didn’t mean to make you jump.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier takes it back. “It’s okay.” He turns to the kettle, moving to fill it up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You sleep alright?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A nod. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How do you feel?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A shrug. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This is how </span>
  <em>
    <span>Geralt </span>
  </em>
  <span>usually acts. Not Jaskier… He sighs. He gives the other some space whilst he prepares his breakfast, heading back over to the living room to check his phone. Eskel has sent him a text letting him know that the hot woman is back at the gym again. Geralt rolls his eyes and types out a reply. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier sits at the table, mixing his cereal with his spoon. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Putting his phone into his joggers pocket, Geralt slides into the seat beside him. “You want to do anything in particular today?” In all honesty, spending all this time at home makes Geralt feel a little stir crazy. But, he wants to help Jaskier above anything else. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.” The other mutters, the clang of his spoon against the bowl as he lets go of it hurting Geralt’s ears slightly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt frowns. “You don’t… Jaskier, you’ve nothing to be sorry for.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m awfully boring at the moment.” He looks up. “And, really grumpy. And sad.” He frowns, looking down again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“All very warranted.” Geralt points out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier eats a small mouthful of cereal. “Hm.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, that’s my line.” Geralt teases, reaching across the table to give his hand a gentle squeeze. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s a small silence before Jaskier speaks again. “Can we go to the park? To our picnic spot?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt is taken aback by the sudden request, his own cheeks turning a little pink. They haven’t been since the start of Summer. They usually visit during the warm months— they’ve lived here for almost three years now. It’s the place they got tipsy on rosè during their first year here, and kissed at sunset. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure we can. We should make the most of the warm weather while it lasts.” He nods, a smile still lingering upon his lips. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>While Jaskier showers, Geralt prepares some food for the picnic: sandwiches, cut up fruit, biscuits, sweets and more cupcakes. He packs lots of water, Jaskier’s painkillers and some orange juice with little plastic cups. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He gets changed into a pair of shorts, fetching one of his denim jackets to protect him from the slight coolness outside. “Jask? You ready?” Geralt calls, stepping out of his bedroom and waiting outside of the other’s. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mhm!” He pushes open Jaskier’s door, observing as Jaskier inspects his forehead dressing in the mirror. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s also wearing a pair of shorts— a beige sort of colour, with tiny buttercups sewn onto the rolled up hems, with dark purple suspenders attached to the short sleeved, light blue shirt. Geralt smiles. “You might need a jacket.” He informs, making his way over to the wardrobe in the corner of the room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Picking one out, he extends his hand and holds it out to Jaskier. “No, no, Geralt.” Jaskier tuts, flattening down his fringe so that it covers the dressing. “Not blue on blue! That’s a crime!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt shakes his head, and puts the jacket back. Jaskier chooses an oversized, deep maroon shirt instead. Tying it around his waist, he picks up a pair of sunglasses from his dressing table. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Now </span>
  </em>
  <span>I’m ready.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They head out to the car, and Geralt loads the picnic basket into the back. They drive with the radio on a low volume, Jaskier humming and tapping his foot every now and then. It isn’t a long drive to the park, and it’s fairly busy which isn’t surprising. They walk slowly up the hill, taking their seats underneath the large oak where they usually reside. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt has spread out a picnic mat, and placed a cushion for Jaskier to lie down on if he so wishes. He starts to unload the food and picnic cutlery, handing Jaskier a water bottle first. The other has his guitar strapped over his shoulder, softly strumming against it and humming quietly. It’s a nice sound, along with the light  breeze and distant sound of children playing on the playground. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They eat without talking too much, but the silence isn’t awkward this time. They talk about music for a little while, but Jaskier seems a little distant so Geralt changes the subject to Eskel’s gym crush. Jaskier lies down after a while, still playing guitar as the clouds float by above him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Geralt.” He says softly, moving to sit back up and place his guitar on the mat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt, who’s growing rather sleepy with the sun beaming down on them, smiles. “You wanna stop for ice cream on the way back?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier grins. “Always!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>~</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally, Thursday comes around and it’s been a week since Jaskier’s injury. He’s at the Doctor’s getting the dressing removed, and he’ll have his last few pills today before moving back onto paracetamol as opposed to the stronger medication from the hospital. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt is awaiting his arrival at home, music playing as he cleans the living room to occupy himself. When he receives the text telling him that Jaskier is on his way back home, he turns down the music and quickly finishes vacuuming. As if he timed everything right, he spies the door handle moving after putting the vacuum away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier wanders in, and removes his sunglasses. “Wanna see?” Is the first thing he comes out with, and Geralt laughs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He moves closer, waiting for Jaskier to show him the injury — they’d glued it together at the hospital after the bleeding stopped, hence needing a protective dressing for a week after the extra bandage was taken off. Jaskier uses his hand to carefully hold up his fringe, revealing the gash that travels up the top of his forehead and into his hairline. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt grimaces, taking a step back. “Yeesh. Eskel and Lambert really will be impressed.” He comments. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How does it feel?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Still kind of hurts. Not as bad now though. Getting the plaster out of my fucking hair was the worst — I’m pretty sure she has my DNA now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt laughs at that. “I was thinking of stopping by the gym after closing for a workout. You want to come with?” He moves to switch off the speaker that’s still quietly playing music. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure. I can show off my battle wound.” Jaskier nods. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt grins, already sending a text to Lambert to ask if it’s alright. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A few hours pass, and the gym closes at seven. Geralt drives them both there after Jaskier has dinner— he’ll eat when he gets back. Lambert and Eskel are both awaiting their arrival in the corridor, both of them talking over one another as the pair walk through the door. “Let’s see it then, Potter!” Eskel teases, already making his way over to Jaskier. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He holds up his fringe, and Eskel intakes a sharp breath. “Nice.” He grins, giving Jaskier a high five. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lambert takes a look next, giving a small nod. “So, can we start calling him Potter from now on?” He asks, turning on his heel to lead the others into the main room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As they all chatter amongst themselves, Geralt heads into the changing rooms. He’s soon using the weights, Lambert by his side giving him encouragement and catching him up on what he’s missed over the past couple of weeks during his absence. Eskel stays on the other side of the room with Jaskier, who is throwing him a ball back and forth. He’s always gotten along better with Eskel — he’s less intimidating than Lambert and usually says more. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt moves onto another piece of equipment, around halfway through his time on it when Eskel calls his name. He doesn’t sound casual either, and shortly afterwards he calls frantically to Lambert. He stops the machine and the pair turn to glance across the room, their eyes meeting the scene with Eskel crouching beside Jaskier on the floor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt immediately runs over, already panicking before he can even say anything. “What happened? Did he fall? Did he hit his head again?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We were just throwing a ball around.” Eskel explains, looking across at Geralt. “No, no. I caught him before he went down. Could see it in his eyes he was gonna go.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Should we call an ambulance?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It can happen after a concussion. He’s still having symptoms — he’s breathing okay. I’ll go grab my phone to call the advice line, you stay with him, okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have an electrolytes drink in my bag. I’ll grab that and some water.” Lambert adds. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They both head off, leaving Geralt alone with Jaskier. His head is supported by Eskel’s hoodie, so that he’s not just lying upon the hard ground. “Jaskier.” Geralt tries. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jaskier, wake up.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Julian, dammit. Wake—“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A small groan. “I don’t like it when you call me that.” Jaskier complains, eyes slowly opening to stare up at Geralt. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who put me down here?” He frowns, and it’s even a little comical. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt laughs softly, although still ultimately concerned. His eyes are watery as he takes a proper seat on the floor beside Jaskier. “Don't get up yet. Just rest for a second.” He tells him, sensing Jaskier’s next idea. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did Lambert knock me out because I’m going to have a cooler scar than him?” Jaskier asks, as the voices of Eskel and Lambert begin to grow closer again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eskel comes nearer, still talking to the operator on the phone. Lambert moves to place each drink on the floor beside Jaskier, and takes a step back. “Yeah, he’s awake. Jaskier, what day is it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thursday.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s your name?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Julian Alfred Pankratz.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How do you feel?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Like I just fainted.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eskel chuckles. “I think he’s alright, ma’am. Yes. We will. Thank you, mhm, bye!” He hangs up the phone, placing it back into his back pocket. “She said if he gets any worse or passes out again in the next twenty four hours to bring him in. But, he should be fine.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt nods, exhaling heavily. “Thanks, Esk. We’ll head home in a few.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hands Jaskier the sports drink, and slowly helps him into a sitting position. They sit for a little while and Jaskier drinks, then rests, and drinks a little more. Eskel sits with him while Geralt goes to use the showers — Jaskier reassures and promises he won’t faint while he’s gone. He’ll wait until he gets back at least (that earns a laugh from Lambert, and a chastising from Geralt.)</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Soon, they’re home again and Geralt insists that Jaskier isn’t moving from his bed. Geralt makes himself a small dinner, checking up on Jaskier every few minutes by calling out to him. He even brings his plate into his room, taking a seat on his bed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Geralt, don’t spill food on my bed.” Jaskier warns, leaning against the pillows behind him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He mutters something through a mouthful that sort of resembles “I won’t!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier tuts. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>While Geralt eats, quiet settles over them. Jaskier glances around the room, having been told to stay off screens for a while he can’t aimlessly scroll. He hums to himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Geralt?” He says eventually, as the other finishes up with his food. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hm?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I… still can’t really remember anything about the trip.” He says quietly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They haven’t talked about his memory for a few days now. Geralt didn’t ask earlier, although it did cross his mind. He hasn’t wanted to mention it yet ever since Jaskier got so upset after looking through the photos. He thought he’d wait until Jaskier brought it up, or until at least another week went by if he didn’t. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s alright.” He says softly, placing his plate carefully onto the floor. “What did the Doctor say earlier?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That I might not remember for a few more weeks.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt takes a deep breath. “Do you want me to tell you about… more of what happened? Obviously you know you hurt yourself, and that we were camping.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier nods. “I don’t remember anything about it. There are… small flashes from the trip. But, nothing of the injury itself.” He explains. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It was dark when we found you — me and Triss — but, you must’ve fallen and hit your head on a rock or something. There was a slightly sloped corner and you weren’t wearing your hiking boots when you were walking. We found you just as —“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt is interrupted as Jaskier hisses in pain, and Geralt’s gaze moves from the floor and back up to him. “Maybe you really are Harry Potter,” He jests, moving closer to him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That earns a smile, but he’s still holding his head. “What happened?” Geralt asks, offering his open arms. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just the headache. It got worse then. Sorry.” He accepts the gesture, moving a little closer to close the gap between them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Like… intense level worse? Should I call the hospital?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s not that bad. I haven’t had meds for a while. I’ll take some, and monitor it. Guess you’ll have to stay by my side.” Jaskier hums. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt gently kisses the top of his head. “I will. We can… talk again tomorrow? Did it upset you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not really. It’s just facts.” Jaskier answers, still safely engulfed in Geralt’s arms. “I stopped focusing a little towards the end.” He admits. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s no matter. I’ll get you some tablets, and then I’ll be right back.” He moves to get off of the bed, fetching the items Jaskier needs and then returns again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Climbing into bed beside Jaskier, his arms wrapping around him again. His own heart beat is going a little fast due to the fact that he was practically an inch close to telling Jaskier about what happened on the mountain. He’d started with the injury description itself, not wanting to mention the reason for him walking away in the first place just yet. But, he would’ve gotten there eventually. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’ll just have to do it tomorrow. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Telling the Truth.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>But… tomorrow comes. And, one more distraction after another begin to pile on top of each other. One day Jaskier is happy, the next he’s in pain and Geralt is fetching him remedies and resting with him. Or, someone knocks on the door. Jaskier wants to watch a movie. Jaskier wants to— but, it’s stupid. Geralt has to stop avoiding the truth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s been two fucking weeks now since the accident. A whole </span>
  <em>
    <span>week</span>
  </em>
  <span> since he last tried to talk to him about it. He’ll do it today. He will. He promises to himself, as he’s staring into space; coffee going cold in the mug gripped inside his hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The coffee is placed back onto the coffee table, only half drunk. As far as Geralt knows, Jaskier is still asleep. It’s still fairly early, but he hasn’t been sleeping into the afternoon anymore. He’s still getting headaches, but the symptoms are slowly fading. He’s been much more cheerful, and Geralt is so glad to see his smile everyday. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt moves towards Jaskier’s bedroom door, standing beside it to listen out for any sign that he’s awake. That’s when he hears singing, and he smiles. Jaskier has been singing again this week, and despite the fact that it can sometimes annoy Geralt… he’s glad to hear it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He knocks. “Jaskier?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The singing comes to a halt. Geralt is a little disappointed. “Yes?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can I come in?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt smiles, opening the door. “You look so much better.” He says, walking over to the bed and taking a seat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier smiles. “I do feel better.” He admits. “It’s nice not to feel like you’re on a sailing ship.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can we talk?” Geralt asks, glancing briefly up at his eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure.” Jaskier takes his guitar and places it onto the floor. “What is it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt sighs. He toys with his fingers and looks around the room. He has to say it… he has to stop delaying. “You don’t know everything about the mountainside.” He begins. “It… the whole reason you were walking down by yourself in your trainers was because of me. I yelled at you, and I upset you. And, it’s—“ he stops, his breath hitching in his throat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He recomposes himself. “It’s all my fault: I’m so sorry, Jask. I… you got so hurt, and it was because of me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A moment of silence passes by, but to Geralt it feels like an eternity. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know why I was walking down the mountain.” Jaskier says, voice soft. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt’s gaze snaps upwards, and he stares at him, mouth slightly ajar. “Y-you know?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wel, I don’t exactly know all of the details, but I’ve started to remember this week. Little bits and pieces. I remembered… being upset first. Then I started to remember the context. Just slightly.” He explains, observing Geralt’s expression of shame. “I suppose I was waitijg for you to say something, incase I was wrong.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Or, maybe it was selfish of me to wait for you to bring it up.” Jaskier continues, now looking over at his guitar instead. “I suppose I was awaiting an apology, because I sort of knew it was real. But—“ he’s quick to add the ‘buy’ in. “But, no way do I blame you, Geralt. Of course, the footwear didn’t help. But, just a few hours before that me and Triss were in the woods wearing our freakin wes and looking for firewood. It could’ve happened at any time. I didn’t have to go wandering off.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt looks up. His eyes are sparkling slightly. “Jaskier, you still left because of me. In the wrong footwear and the wrong frame of mind. You were right to wait for me to mention it— right to wait for an apology. I’m so sorry. Sorry is… I guess it’s just a word, and I caused you a lot of pain. But, I am. I’m sorry.” He blinks a few times, salt water tinting his cheeks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I forgive you.” Jaskier’s voice is just above a whisper. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their eyes meet again, and this time it’s Jaskier closing the gap between them by wrapping his arms tightly around the other. “I forgive you, Geralt.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It was my fault.” Geralt returns the embrace, his arms wrapping around Jaskier, burying his face into his shoulder. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It was an accident, Geralt. I forgive you for yelling. But, I really could’ve fallen at any time. I… you know how clumsy I am. Things happen, Geralt. We can’t dwell on them forever.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt sighs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We can’t.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So, that’s the end!! Thank you so much for reading, leaving kudos and comments! I’m going to be uploading more Geraskier stories to my account in the coming days, so stay tuned!</p><p>I hope that you all enjoyed this story! &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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